The Angel's Captive
by Jolie.Mots
Summary: I wished to God, or whoever was out there, that we could be in another universe and away from this twisted reality. Just the two of us; the Angel, and her all too willing captive." Rosalie's story, and how she found Emmett. A companion story to Rosebud.
1. Chapter 1

I ran through the trees that masked the rugged mountainside, felt my bare feet grinding the small pebbles into a fine dust, saw the tree limbs whip back as I flashed by, and heard the forest life go quiet as I approached.

Never did I feel so apart, so disconnected, from the world I tried feebly to make myself belong to than on a sunny day. Most people rejoiced in our secluded little town when the sun finally decided to show its face. I was not people. I was not a person. I did not belong here. These thoughts continued to pound in my head, making me feel like I wanted to rip myself apart. After a few seconds, I reached my destination.

A little cliff overhang that was void of plant life or soil or critters found halfway up the mountain that looked out over a small valley below. It was where I came on days like these, far, far away from Appalachia, or whatever dwelling we cursed with our presence now. The sun would bake the hard ground under me which, in turn, warmed my feet. Sometimes I would lay down in a thin cotton dress and let the heat soak through my whole body. If I did that long enough I almost felt as if I were human again. But not today. A sob ripped from my chest and I knelt down into a crouch, my head in my hands to try and clear the thoughts.

My skin burst into glittering diamonds the second the yellow rays broke through the wispy cloud, like a million shards of shattered crystal, further proving how alien my existence was and the reason I hated sunny days. Everything around me was alive. Everything around me could grow, reproduce, live, breath, change, and, eventually, expire. There was a beginning, a changing life span, and an end. I would just exist for the rest of time. Sunlight only reminded me painfully of that fact. During one of these days, nothing could cheer me up. Not even the picturesque perfection of my reflection. My mind flew back a few years, resurrecting memories that tormented me continuously. Dim flashes of human recollections imprinted themselves on my eyes.

A handsome, arrogant fiancé; my mother's beaming smile of approval; laying in the grass on a nice day; the warm embrace of an old friend; the dimpled smile of a laughing baby boy. The last one tugged at my dead heart the most. Now, my mind was dominated by the intoxicating smells of humans and unnatural, horrific desires. Disgusted with myself, I stood up and glared at the breathtaking scene surrounding me, as if it were the world's fault I was the way I was.

My eyes burned with nonexistent tears and my fists were clenched, before my eyes fell on something out of place. A slight commotion caught my attention below in the shallow valley, and the scent followed shortly. The strong, tempting aroma of freshly spilled blood pulled me forward, overriding self control. I had just hunted and felt sloshy, as they were still trying to be cautious with me (however unnecessary, seeing as I was no longer a newborn), but the smell that was drawing me was not animal. As I sprinted down the steep decline, my sharp eyes took in the scene before me.

A bear was busying himself over a figure writhing on the ground. I sped up now, curiosity and apprehension peaking through since the blood I smelled was for sure human. I reached the growling bear that towered over my head, which now turned its attention to me. I crouched low and snarled, my lips pulled over my teeth. Sensing another predator, the bear turned and swiped its large paw in my direction, reluctant to leave the prey behind.

I launched myself at the animal and made easy work of the creature in a few seconds. The silence reverberated throughout the valley, and I took a steadying breath through my mouth before turning back to the mutilated human. From a few yards away, I could see the shuddering figure and recognized him to be a male.

He was in hiking gear, now nearly shredded, and covered in the red, sweet smelling liquid I so yearned for. My throat burned, even though I now refrained from breathing, but I knew my heart would be pounding if it could. Despite what Edward had concluded, I held feelings for people other than myself, and I did value human life (possibly more so since my own had been so wrongly taken away).

I slowly approached the dying human, my fists clenching and unclenching. I had never been so close to such a vast amount of blood since my transformation, but I could still feel my sanity with me. I closed my golden eyes when I could feel his emanating heat reach my granite skin. As soon as I reopened them, all thoughts were dominated by his grimacing face. A much younger face came back to me.

The affectionate, light laughter of a little boy, his dark curly hair framing his adorable face. The resemblance was clear as day, to me at least. My throat burned on, but my determination was fierce now. I wasn't sure what I had resolved to do, even when I swung the bleeding form into my arms and began to run faster than I had ever before. I couldn't tear my eyes off of his pained face for more than five seconds, and I took in every feature. His dimples were evident, even in a grimace, and his eyes were bright even in agony. Instinct nudged at my steely self control, but I did not budge. We were flying over the ground, but I knew the distance I had placed between myself and home was still considerable. How I wished I could go faster.

I pushed myself to the fullest strength, felt the soles of my feet barely brushing the earth, and most of all, I felt the incredible scorch that was my throat. I calmed myself by telling me this was Henry in my arms. I had to save him, I had to save Henry. _Do it for Henry_, I repeated in my head.

Finally, after an agonizing hundred miles or so, I could see the patch of forest where our current home sat, and hoped with all my power that Carlisle was home from his shift. After ascertaining what the smoothest route down the hill would be, I turned my attention to his mutilated body, scanning for the most serious of his injuries. There seemed to be a large gash in his midsection, which would prove to be difficult to treat, but his whole body seemed to be sliced and damaged. Would Carlisle be able to nurse him back to health and give him a quality chance at life?

As soon as that question crossed my mind, I realized that his return to a happy human life was not what I was bringing him back for. I instantly became consumed with self disdain at the selfishness of my intentions. I wanted to keep him for me. If I could not have a child, I would drag this poor, unsuspecting boy into my world to endure my misery with me. But he was dying anyway.

Wasn't this exactly the situation Carlisle had been forced to decide in three times previously? Coming across someone inches from death while desperately lonely for someone to understand and love you? How could they possibly judge me poorly for making the same decision as such a wondrous being as Carlisle? Again, my thoughts centered around myself and my image, but I no longer felt selfish.

I vainly imagined the boy being thankful to me once he saw _my _face. Perhaps happiness would accompany him into the vampire existence. My decision was already made, I knew, but I couldn't help but try to justify my hurried actions.

The journey down the hill took only a few moments, but that was all I needed to prepare myself for the request I was about to make. I sighed in brief relief when I heard Carlisle's soft voice and caught the scent of his fresh trail leading up to the porch.

The door opened before I could attempt to pass through myself, and Esme hurried me in, her hand covering her mouth and nose delicately. Carlisle already had the kitchen table cleared off and was laying out silver tools from his bag. I set the human down, not having a second to spare to think that Edward had told them of my dilemma before I had reached the house. Without thinking, I grasped the bloody hand of my captive, as I now thought of him, while Carlisle cut away the remaining clothing from his torso.

"Rosalie," He looked at me, his expression reluctant and his ton uncertain. He knew at first glance that my captive would not make it through human.

"Please, Carlisle," I could only manage a whisper, but I was able to keep my tone earnest, "please," I begged.

"Rosalie, I-" he began, but stopped at the look on my face.

"Listen, you and Esme have been wonderful to me. I do not think I would have my sanity if it weren't for your understanding. Even Edward has been supportive before, but I need you to understand one last time. I am lonely, and I am tormented everyday by my memories. You have Esme to share your life with. Please, Carlisle, I need him." My voice cracked, and I grasped the hand in my own even tighter before taking my left and laying it on Carlisle's. He looked into my eyes before I saw the surrender in his.

"I suppose I owe you this." His tone was guilty, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything due to the relief coursing through my dry veins.

Carlisle pulled out a syringe and vial and I looked questioningly at him.

"Morphine. It may lessen the..." he trailed off, knowing I would remember my own torturous transformation from the human to vampire world.

I closed my eyes, as the weak groans changed immediately to loud bellows of pain. The soft slice of human flesh indicated that Carlisle was finishing the bites in all the places he deemed necessary.

I winced and squeezed his hand as his screams pierced me through. It was the beginning of a long process, and my heart ached again at the thought of what he would go through.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: To whoever is reading this, if anyone is reading this, here is the last chapter. There will probably be another story from Rosalie's point of view in the near future. All of them are just companions to each other and it's not necessary to read one in order to understand the other.

**Added Author's Note:** Okay, either this story is beyond terrible and doesn't deserve to be reviewed, or people just refuse to review. Either way, can at least one person tell me what they think? Anyone? It's getting quite a few hits, just no reviews. I have tough skin, so even if it's a critique, I will take it. Pretty please?

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

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Two days. Two agonizing days had passed since I had 'saved' my captive. I hadn't left his side or let go of his hand in all that time. But Esme pried me away so that Carlisle could put some fresh clothing on him. His wounds had all been completely healed by the venom, and they decided he would probably prefer to wake up decent. So I milled about outside the door, taking in the elegant decor of our sitting room to try and distract myself.

"Rosalie?" Wringing my hands, I turned to Esme, who had softly called my name.

"Yes?" My voice was shaky and I knew my face looked pained.

"Perhaps we should get you a new dress as well."

I looked down at my light blue apparel, now stained with dried splatters of blood. Just as I realized this, my throat burned achingly and I nodded in agreement. Once I was through, I walked back into the room my captive had been moved into; a guest room that only Esme went into once in a while to dust and tidy. He was groaning slightly, and I was thankful that the screaming had subsided for the moment. I sighed, noticing that his smell was less enticing than it had been. Curiously, I took a second whiff, and found that it wasn't less enticing. It was so much more. I took a step closer and closed my eyes, letting the sweet scent of warmth, honeysuckle, and something else I couldn't put a name to wash over me, consuming me. I opened my eyes slowly and looked carefully at his face, wanting to learn everything I could about this beautiful being. His eyes were shut tight, but his face held an innocence. His chest was broad and sculpted, even through the shirt Carlisle had placed on him and his legs were long and powerful. His tanned skin indicated a lot of time spent in the sun, but one look at my own chalky hands reminded me that he would lose that beautiful golden tone once the change was complete. I traced the healed scars on his hands, old ones I knew he had sustained before the viscous encounter with the bear. He must have been daring, as I had heard Carlisle also mention a few healed broken bones from at least a year ago. I shivered, knowing how deep the poor boy's injuries had to be for Carlisle to see the bones. Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away and turned to his personal effects. His fingers my cool touch had been on twitched slightly, but there was no other reaction than that. I picked up the bag that had miraculously remained attached to his back the whole way home. Opening the strings, I shamelessly shuffled through his belongings. First to be pulled out was a small bag of what seemed to be salted seeds and dried beef. Shuddering, I placed that as far as possible, not understanding how I could have ever eaten that. Next was a hat of some sort made of a soft and warm material. I placed that on the side and reached in once more. This time, I found a buttoned pouch, made of fine leather and smelling of him strongly. I opened it eagerly, and a few squares of thick paper fell out. They were pictures, one of a young boy with dimples and curly hair laughing from the back of a pony, another showing an older version of the same boy, now next to a beautiful woman, presumably his mother, and the last of both the woman and boy with a tall, rugged looking man holding a shot gun and wearing a crinkly smile. I smiled a little at the small family, wondering if there had been any additions to their household since the pictures had been taken. I looked back at the pouch and found an indentation in the leather on the right hand corner. "Property of Emmett McCarty" was carefully pressed into the soft material and I traced my finger over it.

"Emmett..." I whispered quietly, and instantly I knew that it was his name. How could I not have known that before? Of course he was an Emmett; you could see it in his face. I smiled to myself, becoming more anticipated to meet this Emmett properly. I turned back to him as his moans grew louder, and hurried to his side.

"Shhh Shhh...It will be over soon, I promise Emmett. My Emmett," I felt affection course through me as his shining eyes opened to look at mine, a sweet, light brown with twinkling irises. A jolt in the pit of my stomach told me to memorize their color before the sinister red flooded their perfection.

"My...angel." he murmured almost silently, and an unexpected, low cry erupted from my throat. I combed my sharp fingers through his thick curls, and he shifted, and I knew he could feel that terrible fire destroying his dreams. I wished I could take his pain away. I hadn't even spoken to him, yet I felt some unknown emotion overtake my soul. I needed him, I wanted him close. I couldn't wait to tell him my name, and see him smile.

Hours, or minutes, or days, or years could have passed and I wouldn't have known. All my time was spent at his side, cooing comforting words into his ear for every scream and gripping his hand when his body contorted. So much for the morphine. But finally, his chest arched and his pain was evidently coming to an end. Both Carlisle and Edward came in while Esme stayed in the door frame, tense anticipation showing in all their faces. Edward took my arm softly and tried to draw me behind him, but I tried to refuse. I wanted to be the first one he saw, the first to hear his voice.

"Rosalie," Carlisle took my shoulders, "let's just make sure everything is under control."

I struggled internally, not taking my eyes off the quickly calming figure on the bed. After a second of hesitation, I relented and moved behind Edward, who took a protective stance in front of Esme and me. Carlisle was a few inches in front of him, his hands already raised in a nonthreatening gesture. Emmett stayed quiet and still as his eyes fluttered slightly, his expression stony. I gulped, worry making me restless. A sigh blew from his parted lips and my insides flipped. He sat up suddenly, turning to swing his legs over the side. The bed frame groaned as his legs banged hard against it and, to our bewilderment, the middle began to cave towards the ground. Newborns were strong, we knew, but usually not _quite_ so powerful. Edward tensed visibly as Emmett's gaze fell first on Carlisle, then on him. Finally, his ruby eyes met mine and my breathing halted. A broad smile broke across his face, and I couldn't help but beam back.

The rest of the day was a blur for me. All I knew was that Emmett's response to me was more than I ever could have imagined, not to mention the way I felt whenever we looked at each other. His control was limited, his laughter boisterous, and his reaction completely unlike what we had expected. Everything about him was pure (aside from the insane blood lust that had him nearly breaking Edward's arm at one point when an unsuspecting human had passed), and his personality was exuberant. I had expected his demeanor to change once he found out what had happened to him, yet he became fascinated with the vampire nature.

After hours of explaining to him how we live and what he was now a part of, I was alone with him. Well, as alone with him as I would get for at least a few months, as Carlisle was just a second away in the next room.

"So, you're my angel." He whispered, aware of the fact that we could be heard.

Startled, I furrowed my brow, "Pardon?"

He looked as if he would be blushing, and I could almost feel the ghost of my dead heart fluttering. Two immortals, dead on the inside but feeling so much alive.

"I thought you were an angel, come to take me away, back when I was dying." He scooted a little closer to where I sat and I automatically tensed, whether from fear of his immense strength that had proven beyond a normal newborn or from wondering why he had moved closer. "I didn't really mind dying. Not as long as you were my angel."

Now I knew I would be blushing, and I wished to God, or whoever was out there, that we could be in another universe; away from this twisted reality. Just the two of us, the Angel, and her all too willing captive.


End file.
